


Summer Days

by Luka z Rivii (wayward_dream)



Series: 500 Milestone Prompts [12]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Tag, geralt is SOFT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23673469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_dream/pseuds/Luka%20z%20Rivii
Summary: A simple game of chase on a summer day in the woods. For once, you and Geralt have time.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Series: 500 Milestone Prompts [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686445
Kudos: 74





	Summer Days

Your bare feet flew across the forest floor, your heart pounding loud in your ears and each breath felt like it had been punched out of you. Still, you didn’t pause, sprinting as fast as your legs would carry you before taking shelter behind a tree, covering your mouth with your hand to stay quiet.

Then you closed your eyes, listening.

Waiting.

The leaves rustled quietly in what was probably the breeze blowing through the trees. You closed your eyes, straining your ears for even the smallest sounds.

A twig snapped and you bolted, using the tree as a springboard to propel you forward as you took off once more.

A thrill went through you when you barely caught a low, dark chuckle followed by the sound of pursuit. “There’s no point in running, little dove,” he called, and you cursed. He was definitely closing in.

You were leaping over a log when he tackled you, and you squealed as you went down but then strong arms encircled you and he twisted in mid-air, so he landed on his back and you landed on his chest. You could feel how huge your eyes were as you stared into golden irises as radiant as the summer sun filtering through the leaves. His hair was loose, spilling like a halo around his head; the silvery strands a beautiful contrast to the lush green of the forest floor.

“Caught you,” he murmured and your heart skipped a beat. His thumb traced along your cheek gently and you flushed, a breathless giggle escaping.

“How did you find me?” you asked, leaning into the touch with a little smile.

“Your scent,” he said idly, leaning up to trace small, light kisses along the curve of your neck. You shivered, swallowing.

“That’s cheating,” you told him, trying to be stern, but you felt his smile curving against the side of your neck and were sure he heard the answering smile in your voice.

“I wasn’t aware our little game had rules,” he purred, and oh  _ gods, _ that wasn’t fair. He knew that voice  _ did things _ to you, left you quivering and weak and  _ wanting.  _ Your breath caught quietly, your hand fisting in the back of his shirt.

“Well,” you were proud of how even your voice came out despite dropping to a raspier tone, “there are. And you cheated.”

Geralt leaned back to look at you with eyes alight with desire, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Hm. And what are you going to do about it?”

You pretended to think about it, kissing him idly before replying. “Catch me fairly and find out,” you murmured. While he was still blinking you bolted again, your pealing laughter echoing through the woods. You heard his quiet growl and grinned, pushing yourself harder.

You splashed through the river, then scrambled up a tree on the opposite bank, hiding amongst the foliage. It was only moments later that he burst from the trees, crossing the river with a single leap and that just wasn’t  _ fair  _ (although you admired the grace of his leap and the play of his muscles and couldn’t make yourself mind too much). He paused when he landed, head tilted to one side.

“I can hear your heart racing,” he called in a low, velvet voice. You bit your tongue so you wouldn’t curse or giggle, clinging to the tree as he walked right underneath you and then past, slow as a wolf stalking a doe. He paused and turned in a slow circle as you slowly edged out farther onto the branch you were seated on, waiting until he faced away from you before dropping onto his back.

He staggered and cursed and you wrapped around him, locking your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, giggling. “Caught you!” you crowed victoriously. “And I did it  _ without  _ cheating.”

You grinned when he turned to look at you, amused. “Not bad, dove,” he murmured, and you preened at the approval.

He startled a yelp out of you when he hooked his hands under your legs, your arms instinctively tightening around him as he started walking. “Where are we going?”

You felt the rumble of his chuckle, and it set your heart fluttering. “There’s a meadow nearby,” was all he said. You settled against his back, nuzzling lightly at the nape of his neck. It was nice, being carried like this; he was so strong, your witcher, but he was always so gentle and reluctant to show off that strength. You knew he thought it would frighten you, or disgust you, a reminder of the monster he determined him to be, but you enjoyed when he lifted you with ease, or when you got to admire the sensual play of his muscles. You sighed dreamily just thinking about it, your eyes fluttering open (when had you shut them?) when you felt Geralt stop walking.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked quietly, setting you down. You slid to your feet a bit clumsily, and his hand slid under your elbow, steadying you as he turned to face you.

You looked up at him, sliding your arms around his neck and whispering to him, “You.”

He hummed, cupping your cheeks and resting his forehead against yours. “What about me?” he inquired softly, hesitant. Always so hesitant to push, to ask anything of you.

You gently placed your hands on his chest and pushed. He looked at you in confusion, but sat in the grass with no resistance. You hitched your skirts up so you could climb onto his laps, straddling his hips as you faced him, holding his shoulders for balance.

“Thinking about how strong you are,” you told him, “and how much I love it.”

“Is that so?” His voice had gone a bit raspy, rough and needing, and you smiled before leaning in to kiss him.

He was gentle, attentive, every light touch and slow caress a question to which your answer was an enthusiastic  _ please, yes.  _

It was different than your usual romp in the sheets, which left behind the most lovely marks, the claim of his fingers and teeth and lips bitten and bruised into your skin so you couldn’t ever forget about him even when he was gone.

No, this was slow. This was vulnerable and open, holding the witcher’s heart in your hands and him trusting you not to break it, to be gentle with him in a way so few had ever been. You drank in his sigh as your hands traced the trembling planes of his chest, admiring the way the sun danced on his sweat-slick skin and the way he shivered under you, slowly unraveling at the attention you lavished on him.

When the two of you were finished, he pulled you down to lay on his chest, wrapping his arms around you. He was shaking slightly and you pressed a kiss to his chest, silently soothing as he slowly came back down, breaths evening out. The sun was warm on your skin, and that plus Geralt’s heat kept you warm as you simply basked in the embrace.

You felt him shift under you and pressed your lips to his chest, sighing quietly. His hand slid through your hair.

“Dove?” he asked softly. Uncertain, always so hesitant.

You lifted your eyes to meet his, offering a small smile. “Was that okay?” you asked softly, tracing his stubbled jaw with your thumb.

He seemed to relax slightly; you felt his muscles under you uncoiling, a bit of tension easing away. “That’s what I was going to ask you, actually.” He caught your hand, pressed a kiss to each fingertip. “It was….”

“Different,” you agreed, and he nodded. “Yes, but….I liked it.” You dropped your eyes as you felt a blush heat your cheeks.

His finger hooked under your chin, gently coaxing you to look back up at him as he tilted your face up. You bashfully allowed it, peering at him from under your lashes.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips and you sighed into it, melting in his arms. When he pulled back you were both smiling. “How long do I have you for?” you asked quietly, dreading the answer. But he never stayed long - he was a busy man, rarely stopped moving.

Geralt nuzzled your palm. “I was hoping to stay the night, if that was alright with you.”

Hope swelled in your heart until it felt like it might burst. “Of-of course that’s alright,” you said breathlessly, smiling and laying back on him. He chuckled and slid his arms back around you, and you relaxed. The day was still young, and you had him for all of it.

You planned to enjoy it - and him - as much as possible while you could.


End file.
